For Stephen

Whoa. I actually managed to stop blogging for a few days. I tried to keep my mind of you, but somehow, I couldn’t.

But I’m quite satisfied because in those few days, I’ve come to accept that you’re really not the one for me. You’ll never know my name. You’ll never call me. You’re never going to love me. We’ll never dream together. You’re never coming back. My heart will go on, I guess.

I’ll keep this blog alive, though. So that maybe, just maybe, you’ll come across this blog and know that a girl named Elle once loved you more than anything.

And Stephen, if you’re reading this, please know that I still love you.

Elle

Dear Stephen,

            It’s me again. I found myself looking for you near that old bench again. Then I remembered you already left. I feel like hitting my head and shouting “Stupid!” but it’s no use.

            I realized that I don’t even know your email address so I looked you up on facebook. There were thousands of Stephens but you weren’t any of them. I asked one of your former classmates and he said that you’re not into the internet. Oh. So much for wanting you to read this blog. :|

            I think I’ll wake up 20 years from now and realize that you’re still the one I love. I don’t think I’ll love anyone aside from you. I hope I don’t. But if I do, I hope I won’t be calling out an S.O.S. every time I see him. I don’t want this to happen again.

Dear Stephen,

            I guess I need to explain my earlier post.

            I didn’t see you on the bench during lunch time and dismissal so I asked about you. I’ve been told that you migrated to another country. I know I really don’t have the right to say that you left me because:

            1. You don’t know I exist.

            2. We have no relationship.

            3. We’re not even friends.

            By now, you’re a thousand miles away from me. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.

            It saddens me because I ignored every opportunity to talk to you. And now, it’s too late.

            I hate myself. I hate myself for not talking to you. I hate myself for not letting you know that I exist. I hate myself for being a coward. I hate myself for not giving us a chance. I hate myself.

You left me. :(

Warning: This is just another letter that I made. I’ll never have the courage to give it to him in person so I’ll just post it here on my blog in hopes of fate leading him to read this someday.

Dear Stephen,

            It’s me, Elle. I know you don’t know me, but we go to the same school. It’s okay that you don’t know about my existence. It’s quite enough that I know yours.

            If you’re not reading this, good. If you are, better. I’ve been seeing you in my dreams since I was fifteen. From that moment on, I couldn’t take you off my mind. You were all I thought of. You are all I think of. I know you never notice me but I see you on the bench everyday. I often wonder why you’re always alone. I love to daydream about sitting next to you on that bench one day but I never have the guts to do so.

            I celebrated my 16^th year yesterday. As the tradition goes, they asked me to make a wish before blowing the candle. I know I could’ve wished for good health, good grades, or a new gadget. But somehow I found myself wishing that someday there’d be me and you. I know it sounds absurd but it just came to me. I don’t know.

            I’m running out of words and my mom’s calling me to dinner so I’ll have to end this here. Blogging again soon.